


Lock the Lion

by thewarlocksbitch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, vld - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Oral, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, fooling around in the red lion, keith loves it, klance, lance is cocky and annoying, they're really lucky no one came looking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 02:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewarlocksbitch/pseuds/thewarlocksbitch
Summary: Keith has been stressed lately, and Lance has a few ideas on how to help him with it. Blowjobs, bickering, incorrect use of the universe's most powerful weapon





	

 

Keith was sitting in the red lion, staring off into space (or, more specifically, at his dashboard) when Lance spoke up behind him. “I knew I’d find you in here.”

Keith snapped out of his daze, or nap, or whatever he had been doing, to whip around. Lance didn’t look at him as he walked to the front of the lion, skimming his fingertips over the controls

“Don’t touch that,” Keith said

Lance turned to face Keith and leaned against the board, his arms crossed over his chest. Keith could see the line of his hips where his belt rode low on his waist and rucked his t-shirt up.

“Don’t sit on it, either,” Keith said, irritated. But he wasn’t, really. Irritated, that was. With everything around him happening at the speed of light and Shiro expecting him to be some fated savior when he himself barely knew who he was, it was nice to have Lance to focus on. It was easy to forget about Zarkon and Voltron and the fate of humanity and every other species in the universe when Lance was _right there_ , with his blue eyes and cocky attitude and, basically, his disarmingly endearing self.

Lance tapped his fingers along the control panel mindlessly; Keith waited for the lion to do a backflip or something else catastrophic that only Lance could make it do, but it remained still. Lance was still watching him. Keith rubbed a hand over his eyes. “What do you want, Lance?” he asked.

“You seem stressed lately,” Lance said quizzically. Clearly he’d been waiting for Keith to prompt him. Keith wasn’t sure whether he had the mind to be annoyed or not.

“Of course I’m stressed,” Keith snapped. “We keep avoiding fighting the Galra, even though Voltron’s supposed to be the only thing that can defeat them, and on top of that, I have you to rely on as a teammate, when you seem more focused on goofing off than saving the universe.” Keith knew it wasn’t true even as he said it. Lance was an amazing sharpshooter and an even better teammate. Probably he’d do better than Keith leading Voltron in Shiro’s absence, not that Keith would ever say so. Lately, it was becoming harder and harder for him to tell the others what he was thinking.

Lance didn’t say anything. He just cocked one eyebrow and tapped his fingers along his forearm. Keith wanted to tap his fist against Lance’s forehead.

But really, the whole rivalry thing between them had been all in Lance’s head to start with. Before the day that Lance had tried to steal Shiro, Keith hadn’t thought anything of Lance at all. But the longer they knew each other, his constant antagonism and annoying nature had Keith slowly believing that it wasn’t so one-sided.

“Besides,” Keith added, because Lance’s limited attention span didn’t guarantee him picking up the conversation, “we’re all stressed.”

Lance smiled and looked around the lion. “You’re more stressed than we are. Everyone thinks so. Allura brought it up earlier, but you were so zoned out you didn’t even hear her.”

Keith frowned at him. “Don’t mess with me, Lance.” he said.

“I’m not! Would I ever lie to you?”

Keith shrugged. “Yeah. Probably.”

Lance looked genuinely wounded. He stood up and went back to the side of Keith’s chair. Keith turned in his seat, not wanting to be blind-sided. Lance put one hand on the arm of the chair and leaned into Keith’s space.

“I’m not lying,” Lance said. “Keith, _buddy_ , I’m just saying–” Lance averted his gaze to the floor, scowling. He went on, voice a little quieter, “You seem worried, but you shouldn’t, but I guess that’s ‘cause you don’t get how smart you are, and you’re hot-headed, yeah, but you’re brave, too…”

“What?” Keith asked. He reached a hand out to touch Lance’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

Lance caught Keith’s wrist, his mouth twisted in annoyance, but didn’t move Keith’s hand away. “No, asshole, I’m just–”

“Use your words,” Keith advised. Lance’s hair - the few strands of it that were caught under Keith’s palm the few that fell over his hand - was surprisingly soft, softer than Keith had imagined (and he had imagined a lot). His skin felt nice, too. He didn’t have a fever, but his body heat made Keith’s palm burn.

“I’m _saying_ ,” Lance repeated, exasperated, and he turned his gaze on Keith, “that you’re… _cool,_ Keith, and that I want to help you not be stressed, you know?”

Lance’s fingers around Keith’s wrist were cool and slender. They slid from his wrist to his elbow, grip firm, and then Lance slid from his feet to his knees. “Like this.” Lance said, looking up at Keith from the floor. Lance placed his other hand on Keith’s thigh, and Keith’s hand slid from Lance’s forehead and into his hair of its own accord, before his brain caught on and he snatched it away.

“What’re you doing?” Keith asked, too shocked to add any menace to his voice. The six points of contact on his thigh from Lance’s fingertips and palm were killing his every thought. He just stared down at Lance, his mouth stupidly open and his cheeks probably turning an embarrassing color, and Lance stared up at him, eyes big, his smile lopsided and boyish. Lance-ish.

“How many people can say they’ve fooled around in a lion?” Lance said. He was grinning, like this was something they did everyday along with their usual bickering, and Keith wanted to – at least he thought he should – tell him to stop.

“We’re,” Keith sputtered, “we’re not doing that!”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t jacked off in here,” Lance said, and it was so dirty and unashamed that Keith’s stomach twisted; he could feel himself getting hard.

“I-” Keith said.

“’Cause I’ve thought of you doing it in here, and if you haven’t, it’d really get me down.” Lance’s hand moved up Keith’s thigh another inch. He grinned at the way Keith shivered.

“If this is your way of helping me _not_ stress, it sucks.” Keith said, trying to keep his voice steady. He wanted Lance so bad it hurt. Mentally, physically, spiritually. He wasn’t certain he could stay tethered to his physical form unless it was doing something productive to Lance soon. “And I would never do anything in here, anyone can walk in. Which is why this is very stressful.” Keith was proud that he managed to sound mostly unaffected.

“I doubt anyone’s gonna walk in,” Lance said. “Unless you’re loud, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” He slid his hand farther up; his fingertips just touched the crease of Keith’s thigh and hip. Keith let out a tight breath. Lance slid his palm up, up, to press it to Keith’s crotch. “Are you loud?” Lance asked. Keith really, definitely wasn’t going to stop him.

“Lance…” Keith said the other paladin’s name, then immediately ran out of anything else to say. Lance looked awfully good on his knees, especially when the image of it was paired with the fact that he was between Keith’s legs.

“Keith,” Lance said earnestly, “can I kiss you?”

Maybe it was irresponsible, and maybe someone _would_ walk in on them, but no half-hearted argument running through Keith’s head was enough to keep him from pulling Lance up to his mouth.

Keith had kissed a few boys back on Earth, and it had been okay. He wasn’t sure if the jolt he felt now was because of the extra stardust gathered between him and Lance or just because it was _Lance_.

Lance’s lips were soft and full, and he tasted sweeter than Keith thought anyone had the right to. Did he have a secret stash of candy somewhere? His mouth was warm, warmer than his forehead had been under Keith’s palm, and Keith kissed it and kissed it as he slid one hand to cup Lance’s cheek and kept the other fisted in his hair.

Keith wondered how many people Lance had kissed to be this good at it. The way he acted, it was probably a lot. And they were probably all girls…

Keith sucked Lance’s lower lip into his mouth and bit down, and Lance gave a breathy moan and leaned into him, letting Keith do whatever he wanted; apparently, when it came to kissing, Lance didn’t mind giving ground.

Lance was still half kneeling on the ground in front of Keith, and bending over to reach his mouth was quickly becoming uncomfortable. Keith broke the kiss to gasp, “Come here,” and Lance scrambled to his feet.

Keith grabbed at Lance’s waist and his bicep, and Lance let him. The thought that Lance wanted this as much as Keith did - for how long, Keith didn’t know - made Keith’s head spin. Keith stopped pulling on Lance so that the other boy could situate himself; Keith’s pilot’s chair was just roomy enough for Lance’s knees to be snug against his thighs.

Keith hung his head, trying to get his bearings. It was embarrassing how hard he was breathing.

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck and pulled him close, but he didn’t demand anything. He stayed still, letting Keith breathe, his weight on top of Keith heavy but not suffocating. Keith could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears.

Keith closed his eyes. He felt Lance’s lips brush his temple. “Is this okay?” Lance asked, his voice breathy. Keith grinned at that. “I kind of pounced on you.”

Keith laughed. “You pounce on everything,” he said, grabbing Lance’s chin so that he could look him in the eyes. He held Lance’s gaze as he very deliberately trailed his other hand from Lance’s hip to press against his stomach.

Lance sucked in a breath. He averted his eyes, and his cheeks looked like they were reddening by the second. “S-so you’re fine with me pouncing on you?” he asked.

Keith laughed. “Yeah, Lance, I’m fine with it,” he said, and Lance pulled him closer and kissed him hard.

It had already been heated, and Keith knew that a short pause wasn’t going to delay Lance from picking up where they’d been. He grinded down into Keith’s lap, his arms holding Keith in just the right place, and it felt so good Keith’s breath seized in his throat. Lance smirked against his lips and grinded down again. Keith couldn’t decide if he wanted to suck on Lance’s neck or get his pants undone more, so he took the middle ground and pushed his hand up under Lance’s shirt.

Lance gasped into Keith’s mouth and Keith bit down on his lip, taking every bit of control Lance was willing to give him. Keith slid his hand up Lance’s chest slowly, running his fingers over his stomach, the planes of his ribs, seeing what made him shiver and what made him shake.

Keith pinched one of Lance’s nipples experimentally - he’d never done this before, not like this - and Lance turned away from his mouth to try and catch his breath. He liked it, then. Keith pinched the other and Lance’s arms threatened to break his neck.

“How worried are you,” Lance gasped at the ceiling, “that someone’s going to come in here and see us?”

Keith slid his hand down Lance’s chest, scratching lightly with his nails, and stopped when his palm was pressed to the  tented front of Lance’s jeans. “Not worried enough,” Keith said, a little distractedly. He flicked open the button of Lance’s jeans, surprised he could do even that with his shaking hands. “What about you?”

“Same. Ditto. I mean…” Lance slid his hands down Keith’s chest, fingers splayed wide. “Can I blow you? Right here?”

“What?” Keith said, startled enough that he looked up from Lance’s jeans to his flushed face. He’d known what Lance’s intentions were when he got on his knees, but him saying them outright was still a travesty.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Are you going to make me say it again?” He was smiling, that half grin of his that only showed a few teeth, but Keith could see he was nervous.

Keith rubbed his palm across Lance’s stomach. Lance’s arms tightened around him and his eyelids fluttered. If all it took to make him look so hungry was this, this easy contact that seemed as natural as breathing, Keith wasn’t sure he would ever be able to make himself stop. He never _wanted_ to stop. He cleared his throat. “Do you want to? Because you don’t have to–”

“Yeah,” Lance said. He ducked his head and pressed his face into the side of Keith’s neck; it was possible that Keith had a full on heart attack in the same second. “I want to. That was my main goal when I came up here.”

“Then it’d be in my better interest to do my best to keep you from ever reaching your goal,” Keith said automatically, “in respect to our ongoing rivalry.”

Lance bit his neck once, just under his jaw, and that was more than enough to paralyze Keith so that he could get back onto his knees unchallenged.

Lance slid both of his hands up Keith’s thighs. “Put the rivalry on hold, then,” he said. He popped the button of Keith’s pants open and tugged them down to his knees. Lance ran his fingers under the hem of Keith’s underwear. “Or does this still count as a fight?”

Keith stifled a groan with his hand as Lance slowly palmed him through his underwear. “I don’t know,” he said, voice embarrassingly unsteady. Lance shifted on his knees; Keith could see the hard outline of Lance’s cock through his boxers where he’d managed to get his zipper undone. Keith reached both arms behind his head and gripped the back of his pilot’s seat; he wasn’t yet sure which lines were safe to cross. “It kind of feels like one.”

Lance grinned, the expression annoyingly adorable on his guileless face. “I’ll go easy on you, then,” he said, and he hooked his fingers on the waistband of Keith’s boxers and pulled.

Keith squirmed at the sudden exposure, tempted to close his eyes against it. Lance leaned forward and licked up the shaft of his cock to the head, his lips parted and his eyes half-lidded. Keith kept his own eyes wide open.

“Ah,” Keith said unintelligibly. His hands dropped to cover his mouth, then dropped further to hover by Lance’s face. He wanted to cup his cheeks, wanted to run his thumb over the corner of his lips, but there was no way he would ever interrupt what Lance was doing.

Lance licked up again, more sure of himself this time - had he ever done this before? - and he closed his eyes. He tilted his head, dragging his lips along the shaft wetly and lazily, his eyes still closed. Keith’s fingers clenched at the air on either side of Lance’s head.

Without any warning - Keith guessed that was kind of the point - Lance wrapped one hand around the base of Keith’s cock and began to slowly pump him, still licking up and down. His hand felt better than Keith’s own ever had.

Keith stared at him, mesmerized, and Lance smiled like he knew before taking Keith fully into his mouth.

“ _Ah_ ,” Keith said again, but this time it was more of a gasp. Lance’s mouth was hot, hotter than it had been when they kissed, and he was burning Keith more and more with every inch he took in.

“ _Lance,_ ” Keith said, his breath rushing out of him. Lance hollowed his cheeks and sucked; he didn’t seem at all bothered by the obscene noises he was making. On the receiving end, though, Keith was at least attempting to hold himself in check.

“Fuck, do that again, Lance, that…” Lance hummed low in his throat and reached blindly with his free hand to grab Keith’s wrist. He felt for Keith’s fingers and then brought them to his head. Keith watched as Lance set his hand over Keith’s and pushed.

Keith’s hand caught on before he did, unconsciously pushing down on Lance’s head when he took him in deep, his fingers tight in Lance’s short hair. He almost pulled his hand back when he realized what he was doing, but the way Lance’s face changed - the flush in his cheeks turned darker, his eyebrows drew together in concentration, and his eyes moved beneath his closed eyelids like he was dreaming - encouraged Keith to give Lance the slightest _push_.

Lance moaned, and the thrum of it made Keith gasp and clutch harder at Lance’s hair. Keith pushed him down again, careful not to push him too far; he knew Lance never backed down from a challenge, and that probably wouldn’t change now.

Lance bobbed his head and Keith followed, pushing him down hard and then gently petting the tufts of his hair when he came up for air. Keith ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of Lance’s jaw, enjoying the shivers it sent through the other boy.

“You’re good at this,” Keith purred, voice heavy and unschooled with all of his focus on watching Lance’s mouth. Lance looked up at him through his eyelashes, his lips swollen and wet around Keith’s cock. Keith cupped Lance’s jaw, feeling himself press against the inside of his cheek. “Lance, _ah_ ,  stop, I’m gonna come, _Lance_ ,”

Lance pulled off of Keith with a wet pop. Keith went to wipe cum and spit off Lance’s lower lip with his thumb but he kept it pressed there, staring at Lance’s red mouth and breathing hard.

Lance’s eyes were wide. He kept stroking Keith, but it wasn’t enough to send him over the edge; it was just enough to make him squirm.

“Why?” Lance asked around Keith’s thumb, slightly out of breath.

Keith jerked under Lance’s hand. “Because - ah” he yanked on Lance’s hair, but Lance only grinned, “I was still in your mouth, and I would’ve… you-”

“That’s kind of the whole point of this.” Lance told him, and he pinned Keith’s wrist down so he could swallow him whole.

“ _Lance,_ ” Keith choked, but Lance seemed intent on killing him. His vision started to blur; he had to close his eyes against it. He focused on the feeling of Lance’s fingers; strong and slender, holding him down and coaxing him to break. He didn’t pull on Lance’s hair with his other hand - he just let him go.

Lance came up, sucking hard and twisting his wrist, and something in Keith snapped. He gasped something - a warning, or maybe just Lance’s name - and instinctively clutched at Lance’s hair, wanting him as close as possible.

Lance took Keith in as far as he could as he came, still holding Keith down as he came. He kept sucking as he swallowed, and Keith gasped and shook under him until it became too much and he pushed him away with a weak shudder.

“God,” Keith said. Then again, “ _God._ ” He traced Lance’s shining lip with his thumb. His eyes were all pupil, and his hair stood up every which way from Keith’s fingers. The flush on his cheeks matched his swollen lips. He was _wrecked_. They both were.

Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and twined their fingers together. “Was that good?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes, you idiot.” Keith told him affectionately. “It was amazing.”

Lance let out an unsteady breath, and Keith curled his hand over the back of Lance’s neck, grounding him. Keith squeezed Lance’s fingers where they still gripped his hard. “Come here,” he said.

Lance half-stood and almost swayed on his feet. Keith pulled him onto his lap and kissed him as gently as he could.

Keith grimaced at the taste in Lance’s mouth but he supposed it was only fair that he help distract Lance from it. He slid his tongue along Lance’s lower lip; he’d mentally recorded all of the techniques Lance had used earlier, and he was excited to try them out so soon. Lance clutched at the lapels of Keith’s jacket with his free hand, his other still holding Keith’s like his life depended on it.

Keith slid his hand from the warmth of Lance’s neck down his chest and then, when Lance rocked forward into his lap, his thighs. He felt every plane and line, taking note on what made Lance gasp into his mouth.

Keith felt hot but sated, his limbs heavy with lingering pleasure and his head still spinning. He’d be sleepy, he thought, if Lance weren’t in his lap, holding him, kissing him.

Keith slid his fingers under the exposed line of Lance’s underwear, and Lance shuddered. Keith smiled against Lance’s mouth. Lance hadn’t been touched yet.

Keith pulled back, suddenly nervous all over again. His heart was threatening to break some ribs with how hard it was beating. “Can I try something?”

Lance pulled back, too. “What are you gonna do?” he asked.

Keith trailed his hand up to trace the hard line of Lance’s jaw. He pressed his thumb down on Lance’s lip, and Lance took the hint. He sucked Keith’s thumb into his mouth, expression curious, like he already knew what Keith was going to do but couldn’t wait to figure out the specifics of it. Keith curled his fingers around Lance’s jaw. “Do you trust me?” he asked Lance.

Lance nodded, seemingly dazed. He didn’t seem to have a mind for anything except sucking on Keith’s thumb; his hand in Keith’s was slack.

Keith let out a tremulous breath and slid his other hand up from Lance’s flushed neck to the high cliff of his cheekbone. His stomach was so tightly curled with nerves he thought it might kill him. He pushed tufts of hair back from Lance’s forehead and Lance turned his face into Keith’s palm, eyes half-lidded. He looked drunk.

Keith pulled his thumb away from Lance’s lips and caught his indignant whine in his mouth. He kissed him softly, hands cupping his face. Lance’s hands fluttered up to Keith’s chest, and Keith pulled away.

“Stand up,” he said quietly.

He stood as Lance did and backed him up until he was leaning on the control panel. Keith thought it more fair that _he_ be the one to lean on something - he felt like his knees were going to give out - but he wanted to make Lance feel the same. He wanted to put his hands on Lance; he wanted to make Lance sigh.

“What’re you going to do?” Lance asked breathily, his voice slurred from Keith’s thumb still in his mouth. Keith pulled his hand away and gripped the control panel by Lance’s hip to steady himself.

Keith ran his other hand down Lance’s stomach, making him suck in a breath. “Have you ever done this before? With a boy?”

“No…” Lance said. “Have you?”

Keith could feel Lance’s body heat radiating off him. It was making his head spin. “No,” he said. He ran his fingers under the waistband of Lance’s underwear. “Not really.”

Lance let out a tight breath. “What does ‘not really’ mean?”

“It was never like this,” Keith said. “It was never with someone like you, and never… this much.”

“I hope ‘someone like you’ is a compliment,” Lance huffed.

“It is,” Keith said. He dipped his head to kiss Lance’s throat; Lance’s pulse thrummed against his lips. “Do you parrot people when you’re nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Lance muttered. Then, “Maybe.”

Keith kept kissing his neck; it was doing something complicated to Lance’s breathing. “Do you really trust me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Lance said quietly. “And don’t seem so surprised.”

Keith kissed down into the neckline of Lance’s shirt; he could feel Lance begin to shake against the control panel; he could hear it, too - some of the knobs were rattling. “Do you like me?” Keith asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Lance said, like it cost him everything to admit it. Keith bit down on his chest, and he added, a little hastily, “I thought that was obvious, since I” - Keith slipped a hand into the front of Lance’s underwear, and he moaned - “since I came in here and- and _pounced_ on you.”

Keith smiled into Lance’s skin. “I just wanted to know for sure. And I like you too, Lance. Just so you know.”

“Really?” Lance said.

“ _Really,_ ” Keith told him, and he dropped to his knees.

**Author's Note:**

> part 2 coming soon maybe?? and feel free to send in prompts to my tumblr! thanks for reading :-)


End file.
